The Quiet Things
by Aeschylus42
Summary: “It only takes one night of intense emotional pain and one time channeling your pain through something else to become addicted. You know that.”She nodded and whispered, “I knew better.”Ch. 5 posted Completed
1. Chapter 1

Title: The Quiet Things

Author: Aeschylus

Rating: PG13

Spoilers: Emily episodes and Fowely stuff

Summary: Diana Fowely enters their lives. Scully faces her anguish of Emily's death and turns to other means of dealing with her pain.

Disclaimer: Nothing X Files is mine.

Feedback: email me at If you have seen the movie Thirteen a certain scene may be similar to a scene in my story. I wrote this before I saw the movie.

What a day.

She had experienced worse, but somehow today seemed like the equivalent of being slammed against a brick wall.

The end was near at least. Scully looked longingly up at the small window that offered little light into the basement office. The sky was dimming, leaking a dull gray color across a section of the office floor.

"Bye Mulder," she said softly, tossing her coat over her shoulder, not bothering to look back to see if he had heard her.

Her mind was already somewhere else. She was looking forward to the ride home. She liked the predictability of her route home, the things she saw season by season, year by year. With fall in full swing the trees would line the streets with golden brilliance as the sun sets its sharp rays upon the leaves. She liked the way they glowed a path to her home.

"Scully, wait." He called.

She stopped, drew in a deep breath, then turned slowly to face him. Her eyes dully met his.

But he said nothing, he just stared at her, his lips slightly parted and eyes narrowed, searching her own. She offered a short nod and then turned quickly on her heels, taking longer strides than usual.

On the way to her car, her mind raced. She thought in images. One meshing into the next like a fast paced slide show. The look on Mulder's face when he saw that woman, the awkward glances he shot anywhere but Scully's way, his hand enveloped in that woman's hand.

She really shouldn't be this upset. She felt silly and girlish. Then again, maybe she did have a right to react this way. She has been by this man's side for years. She has chosen to stand beside him even though the losses she suffered and would surely suffer were and are great.

Shaking the thoughts from her head when she reached her car she fumbled around for her keys that lay heavy in the bottom of her coat pocket.

"Ouch", she breathed, snatching her hand out of her pocket. She inspected her palm where a slightly deep scratch appeared. She watched as blood dotted to the surface. Using her other hand, she felt around her pocket only to find a large safety pin. She sighed, realizing she must have mindlessly handled it and then dropped it into her pocket at the office.

What a day.

The days that followed were about on the same awful scale as the first one that Diana Fowley entered her life and re-entered Mulder's. She began to see that he was choosing to ignore the glares and obvious pain she was in.

This woman must have meant the world to him at one point. She couldn't see why. She even found evidence that this woman is not who she says she is. He wouldn't hear of it.

She felt betrayed. Replaced. Used.

Now, it was time for the only thing that held her together. Her nightly routine which consisted of a nice tall glass of wine, a bubble bath, and Stravinsky.

As the bath water was running she brought in her little c.d. player and a vanilla scented candle. She unbuttoned her shirt and tossed it on the floor. She pressed play on the c.d. player and 'Scherzo' filled the room. She breathed in the vanilla cloud rising from the candle as she stepped out of her skirt and peeled her panty hose off.

Once her undergarments were off, she tested out the water with her big toe. She then placed both feet in the water and with her hands gripping the sides of the tub; she lowered her body slowly into the bubbly water.

She sighed blissfully and slid lower, until she was neck deep and her head rested on the rim.

She sat for a long time just like that. Trying to let the music take over her emotions.

Her left hand stung and she lifted it to look at the pink line on her palm. It still wasn't healed. She lifted her other hand to finger the cut gently. It panged in response to the contact. Kind of like the emotional pain she has been in lately.

She rolled her eyes at the thought but knew it was true. Whenever Mulder looked at her in that certain way, it was like lightly brushing his fingers over a fresh cut. It was like he had a bandage in his hand but refused to lend it to her.

She dropped the cut hand back into the water, and used the other to grab her wine glass. She took a large gulp and licked at the tart layer of liquid that remained on her upper lip.

It didn't take her long to down the whole glass. She already felt light headed, but she knew that was because she hadn't eaten since noon. She didn't have the appetite anymore.

The water was too cold now. She lifted herself out of the tub, using her toes to lift the plug out of the drain.

Once she was dressed and in bed she found herself tracing the cut again. It was like a link to her heart. Every painful beat was in tune with every scrape of her nail across the cut.

She squeezed her eyes shut and clenched her jaw, trying to shake the feeling of betrayal. She never knew how deeply this feeling could dig into one's heart.

The more she tried to forget, the more she felt the pain. She didn't know how to deal with it. It kept bubbling up. She needed it to go away.

Her hand hurt. It hurt so badly. She opened her eyes to find that she had reopened the wound. Not only that, but she had managed to dig deeper into the skin, causing it to be jagged and gash-like.

"Damn", she muttered, watching her blood seep out of the cut.

The pain in her heart was gone. All she felt was the throbbing, stinging sensation coming from that slender long cut.


	2. Chapter 2

Title: The Quiet Things

Author: Aeschylus

Rating: PG13

Spoilers: Emily episodes and Fowely stuff

Summary: Diana Fowely enters their lives. Scully faces her anguish of Emily's death and turns to other means of dealing with her pain.

Disclaimer: Nothing X Files is mine.

Feedback: email me at Notes: If you have seen the movie Thirteen a certain scene may be similar to a scene in my story. I wrote this before I saw the movie

XXXXXX

They didn't talk all day. It was extremely hot in the basement office and Scully watched Mulder loosen his tie. It was lunchtime and he was indulging in a double cheeseburger that oozed heart attack.

She was playing solitaire on her laptop, an untouched yogurt cup next to her.

"Aren't you going to eat?" he finally asked, his eyes wide and questioning.

She jumped a little, startled by the sudden sound of his voice. She nervously tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and cleared her throat a little to say, "Uh, yes, I was just a little wrapped up with…-"

He interrupted her to say, "What happened to your hand?"

She froze, and glanced at her hand which had a bandage placed over her cut.

"Oh, I had a safety pin in my coat pocket and it cut my hand when I was getting my keys", she replied.

"A…safety pin", he repeated, nodding with each syllable.

She averted her eyes and looked back up a few moments later to find that he still stared at her.

He held her gaze for a moment and then returned his attention back to his lunch.

She dug her fingernails into her palm, the pressure causing her cut to throb under the bandage. She wished they could both snap out of it and break down the invisible barriers they built up so long ago. She wished he would say he understands why she was so upset and she wished she could approach him and have a normal conversation about their issues.

It seemed like he had no concern whatsoever when it came to her feelings about Agent Fowely. She felt pathetic for even having issues about it anyway. She couldn't get it out of her mind because she was trying to convince herself her feelings are justified.

Then his voice startled her again, "Actually, Scully, I thought you had a cut there a week or so ago, but it wasn't bandaged and was almost healed the other day".

How observant of you Mulder. Did you happen to notice my heart is ripped out and flopping around on your desk too?

"Well, Mulder, it opened back up last night after my bath", she replied, her eyebrow and voice lifting a notch.

He nodded, and seemed satisfied with her answer.

She was just being paranoid anyway. There was no way for him to know that she meant to do it. Or that she enjoyed it.

"Don't forget you have that autopsy scheduled in about an hour," he reminded her through a mouthful of burger.

"Yeah," she replied, chucking her unopened yogurt into the trashcan.

XXXXXX

She went through the autopsy with little interest. Seemed the woman died of a broken neck, plain and simple.

She pulled out her cell phone to call Mulder. It rang two rings before she heard it click and then a, "Hello?"

"Hello?" Scully said, frowning. It was a woman's voice.

"Agent Scully?" the woman asked.

"Yes…?"

"Here's Fox."

"Hey, sorry," Mulder said.

"Mulder, who was that?" she asked, her heart thudding.

"Di-Agent Fowely," he replied.

She was silent for a few moments, and then said, "The woman died of a broken neck."

She hung up and leaned against the wall, her sister's face flashing through her mind. She had lost so much to him, to this.

Without thinking she stalked over to the drawers and pulled out a clean scalpel. She clenched her teeth and let her heart open to all the agony she had been holding at arms length.

Grasping the scalpel she made one swift and deep cut on her right arm, just below the major veins in her wrist.

Panic came first, made her want to curl up tight and whimper.

Her knees grew weak and she almost blacked out from the pain. Stumbling over to the drawers she grabbed some gauze and applied pressure to her cut. She sank down to the floor and sobbed.

What in the hell was wrong with her?

XXXXX

On her way back to the office from the autopsy, her mind swirled with disbelief. It was like someone else was inhibiting her body. This someone else was tugging and pulling the suppressed anguish from her soul. This someone else had magnified the pain, making it unbearable.

She swung by a gas station when her car gave a tiny beep indicating her gas was low. Walking slowly, she took her place behind a tall, burley man.

"A pack of Camels please," he told the Spanish man behind the counter.

The burley man paid and turned to see Scully eyeing the Nicorette patch on his shoulder. He smiled sheepishly and told her, "I've been trying to quit but my wife filed for divorce yesterday. It's the only thing that keeps me from turnin' to the bottle again. Cools the nerves."

She nodded and offered a small smile and watched him walk out of the door.

"Ma'am?" the man behind the counter asked.

She startled and mumbled a sorry, handing him a crisp bill from her wallet. In an exaggerated motion, Scully slid her gaze towards the lines of cigarettes.

"Actually, could I also have a pack of…Morley lights?"

XXXXX

She had a nightmare that night. Her cancer was back but nobody believed her. She was growing weak and her time to go was soon, but nobody gave her a thought. She ran away from everything into a dark forest. Fog slithered, gray snakes along the ground. She continued thrashing and weaving through the thick mass of trees only to come face to face with an alien. His large, unblinking eyes narrowed and his hand lashed out, scratching her arm.

She awoke with a start and her chest heaved from her deep breaths. Her forehead felt sticky with sweat and her throat was dry and scratchy.

Her arm was stinging again. She cradled it and felt a pang of guilt. She was a doctor. She knew better. There was no reason for this.

Except…her sister died because of this man, she was barren because of this man, she had no outside life because of this man.

Because of this man… she almost died of cancer. And because of that woman that he chooses to trust over her, she obtained that cancer.

But that was nothing compared to the loss of her daughter. Emily's face flashed into her mind.

With a sharp intake of breath she shook away the thoughts, knowing that it wasn't his fault she stayed. It wasn't his fault period. It was her fault.

XXXXX

There was a new case and she was on an airplane again. It was extremely hot but she refused to take off her jacket in fear that Mulder would notice the new wound on her arm. How could he not?

Scully could tell he wanted to say something to her. He kept wiggling around in his seat and shooting her quick glances. She didn't dare look at him.

When they arrived at the hotel later that day she went straight to her room and locked her door. She didn't even bother discussing the case with him. She just wanted to get it over with so that she could get back home to her own tub and her own bed.

She shed her coat but then quickly put it back on when there was a sharp knock at the door. She unlocked the door and swung it open to face Mulder.

"Let's go grab dinner," he said.

"I'm not hungry," she replied, crossing her arms tightly across her chest.

"You didn't eat lunch," he pointed out, his voice flat.

"I'm just not hungry, ok?" she said, getting angry.

She started to close the door but Mulder's hand stopped it, making a loud banging noise.

She jumped and stared at him, startled at his forceful and cold demeanor. He pushed it all the way open, causing her to stumble back a few steps.

She was in shock and said nothing.

"What's going on Scully. You don't eat. You don't talk. Talk to me," he said in a low voice.

She shook her head and turned her back to him.

He roughly turned her back to face him and cupped her chin. She angrily shook out of his hold and backed to the wall because it was the only place to go.

"Talk to you Mulder?" she spat.

He nodded, his face not giving away his emotions.

"I have nothing more to say to you," she said harshly.

He flinched and his face softened. He took a step towards her but she shook her head no.

Suddenly a cell phone rang, causing them both to jump. Mulder reached into his pocket and glanced at the name that appeared on the screen. She could tell by the look on his face that it was her. That it was Fowely.

"Goodbye Mulder," she said, and she went into her bathroom and locked the door, not giving him a chance to say anything more.

After her bath she returned to an empty room.


	3. Chapter 3

Title: The Quiet Things

Author: Aeschylus

Rating: PG13

Spoilers: Emily episodes and Fowely stuff

Summary: Diana Fowely enters their lives. Scully faces her anguish of Emily's death and turns to other means of dealing with her pain.

Disclaimer: Nothing X Files is mine.

Feedback: yes please

Author's Notes: If you have seen the movie Thirteen a certain scene may be similar to a scene in my story. I wrote this before I saw the movie.

XXXXXXX

After that night at the hotel, things were tenser between the two of them. The case wasn't an X-file and they returned to the confining space of the basement office.

She wore a light long sleeved shirt to work that day to hide her old cut and her few small new ones she added to the other arm the previous night after having another dream. This one was about her abduction.

She shuddered at the memory of it. It was painfully real.

She had, however, gained her appetite some. She ate a salad and then cut up an orange and nibbled at the slices as she surfed the Internet.

She could tell he was pleased and that angered her but she showed no sign of it. She glanced at her watch and stood up to leave for her meeting with Skinner. She had to hand in her field report along with the autopsy findings from the case.

She entered his office, file in hand.

"Agent Scully," he greeted her from his desk.

She took a seat and crossed her legs, glancing around the room as he finished putting a stack of papers away. When he was finished he folded his hands on the desk and looked at her.

"So the autopsy showed nothing more than natural causes?" he asked.

She reached over to hand him the file, her shirt lifting slightly to reveal a portion of a few smaller cuts on her wrist. He froze to stare at her arm and then as quickly as she pulled her arm back, he looked at her in alarm.

"How did you get those cuts?" he asked, furrowing his brows.

She opened her mouth a few times to speak, frozen in the disbelief that she was so careless.

"Gardening," she finally said, staring defiantly into his eyes.

"Gardening."

"Yes, my mother's garden. The rose bushes."

He nodded and turned his attention to the file. She sat awkwardly, praying he wouldn't keep her much longer.

After what seemed like a lifetime, he said, "I see that she didn't present the same toxins as the other victims."

"That's right," she replied, clearing her throat.

He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. He then sighed and said, "Agent Scully, Mulder has come to me about something."

Her heart almost stopped. Her mouth went dry and she slouched back in her chair, waiting for some humiliating speech about her eating habits.

When she didn't say anything he continued; "I think it would be in your best interest to take some time off. He seems concerned that you are under too much stress lately and that you may benefit from some time to yourself."

Anger flashed in her eyes when she looked up at him. She gritted her teeth and said, "I'm fine sir."

He nodded and then said, "If you need time, by all means, take it. You just seem…a little worn down lately."

"Between the work, the decisions, and the relentless search for the truth…yeah I guess you could say I'm a little worn down," she spat. She then lowered her head, realizing she went too far.

She took a deep breath to find her calm and stated, "I'm fine,"

She stood and said, "Will that be all?"

He inclined his head as she rose to her feet and simply nodded, watching her walk quickly out of the room.

XXXXXXX

"What in the HELL did you say to Skinner!"

Mulder jumped, dropping his bag of sunflower seeds. The only sound in the room was her heavy breathing and the sound of the seeds scattering on the floor.

She walked furiously over to his desk, her small frame looming over him. He reached to take her hand but she snatched it away before he could touch her.

"What did you say Mulder?" she asked, a little calmer.

He looked away to say, "I just feel that you need some time away from the office."

"What RIGHT do you have!"

He looked at her, into those cold blue eyes and he said in an even tone, "Or maybe I felt that you needed some time away from me."

"I think it's the other way around Mulder," she said softly, looking away.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, leaning forward.

"I don't want to get into this with you right now," she said, turning away to walk to her desk.

"What are you afraid of?" he asked, challenging her.

She stopped in her tracks, her shoulder's visibly stiffening. She turned slowly back to him and his face fell when he saw tears welling up in her eyes.

"I'm afraid that I have lost everything for something that doesn't matter anymore."

She saw the sadness in his eyes and for a twisted moment she was happy to see him in so much pain.

His mouth trembled open, then shut it again. "I'm sorry you feel that way," he finally choked out.

"Me too," she said sadly. And she meant it.

XXXXXXX

Jealousy, she thought, pursing her lips. It was, in a way, the opposite of love.

Reaching into her pocket she fingered the pack of cigarettes that she had yet to touch.

She was sitting on a bench outside the FBI building, near the rear entrance. She knew she needed to calm down and clear her mind before facing Mulder in that suffocating room again.

She pulled the cigarettes out and packed them quickly against her leg. She looked around nervously before she pulled a cigarette out and placed it between her lips. It was like she was a teenager all over again; scared that her father would catch her in the act.

"Need a light?"

She jumped a foot it felt like and she whirled her head around to locate the source of the unmistakable voice.

Mulder towered over her, hands on hips, lips pursed. She sun blared behind him, casting a blinding glow around his tall and lean body.

She felt the blood rush to her face and she turned back away from him. She reached into her pocket for her lighter, choosing to ignore him.

When she pulled the lighter out, the box of cigarettes fell to the ground. Before she could react Mulder made his way to the front of her and stooped to sweep the box off the ground.

He held it out and read, "Morely…lights."

Her fingers shook as she lit her cigarette. Taking in a small drag she felt her lungs clench in protest of the sudden invader. She willed herself to suppress a cough as she exhaled the smoke.

He sat on the bench and dropped the pack onto her lap.

"Well, not my particularly favorite brand but at least you have your head screwed on straight," he paused, "you got lights."

"You know Mulder, if it bothers you then leave."

She felt him shrug and she took another long drag, feeling a sudden wave of relaxation. She had forgotten how tranquil a simple cigarette could make you feel. She almost immediately got a buzz and enjoyed the lightheaded sensation it gave her.

She felt Mulder shift on the bench and she snapped her face to his when she saw that he had reached to remove a cigarette from her pack.

He put it in his mouth and she watched it bounce on his full lower lip as he asked her for a light. She handed him the lighter and watched him take an extremely long drag. He handed her the lighter as he exhaled.

Scully wasn't quite sure how to take the situation. He was either trying to get under her skin or he was pulling some metaphorical stint by telling, or showing her rather, that she wasn't alone. After a final drag, she put her cigarette out in the cement ashtray next to the bench.

She turned her gaze to the cigarette that perched in between his fingers.

"I know you are going through something right now. It's probably a dark place you are in. But I'll be damned if I sit back and watch you sink so low that you hurt yourself. But I know as good as anybody that the only person who can save you…is you," he stood and handed his unfinished cigarette to her and walked away.

She stared at it, the paper wrinkling slowly down, leaving a pointy nub of fiery ash.


	4. Chapter 4

Title: The Quiet Things

Author: Aeschylus

Rating: PG13

Spoilers: Emily episodes and Fowely stuff

Summary: Diana Fowely enters their lives. Scully faces her anguish of Emily's death and turns to other means of dealing with her pain.

Disclaimer: Nothing X Files is mine.

Feedback: email me at Notes: If you have seen the movie Thirteen a certain scene may be similar to a scene in my story. I wrote this before I saw the movie.

XXXXXXX

She got drunk that night. Extremely drunk. The room was tucked away in a hazy fog and she couldn't make it from point a to point b without slamming into something or tripping.

Someone was knocking. She squinted her eyes around the room, trying to locate the door. Ah, she found it. She stumbled over to it and didn't even check the peephole before unlocking the door and swinging it open.

It was Mulder. Great.

Scully said nothing to him and turned around a little too quickly and stumbled her way over to the couch where she collapsed onto it, gulping down the rest of the wine bottle.

She heard him shut the door and walk over to her. She closed her eyes and moved her legs when she felt the couch move under the pressure of his weight.

"How much have you had to drink?" he asked, taking the bottle out of her hand that was carelessly draped off the side of the couch.

Her eyes snapped open as if she just remembered he was there.

"I'm so drunk," she said, licking her lips.

"Yeah," he agreed. He shook a bag in front of her and said, "I brought you dinner."

She groaned and pushed herself up in a sitting position. She heard her stomach growl at the smell coming from the bag. He must have heard it too because he got up and offered his hand to her. She took it and stood unsteadily, almost falling into him. He led her to the kitchen table and helped her sit down.

Once the food was on a plate in front of her, she couldn't help but eat a lot and fast.

"Take it easy Scully or you'll be puking all night," he murmured, eyeing her from across the table.

He sure did know how to make a woman feel sexy.

She pushed her plate away at the thought of puking and said, "Done."

He nodded and took the plate to the sink.

"When you sober up we'll talk," he told her, sitting back down in front of her.

She laughed and replied, "Well then you'll be here for a while because Mulder, I. Am. Trashed."

"It's good to see you smile," he told her, his face completely solemn.

She stopped smiling and looked away, her eyes lazy and glazed over.

"Scully," he said.

She looked at him, trying to focus on his hazel eyes. She wanted to reach out and ruffle his hair or just hold his hand. It's funny the things you admit you want to do when you are drunk.

"Are you going to talk to me this time? I mean really talk?" he asked, taking her hand in his.

She didn't pull away this time and found herself nodding. He nodded too and looked down at her small hand in his.

"You've lost some weight," he told her.

She watched him continue staring at her hand in his and she had to stop herself from spilling every thought that had consumed her mind since Diana Fowely showed up. She wanted to beg him to believe what she had to say about her. She wanted to tell him that her mind was consumed with thoughts of her sister, of her daughter, of her abduction. She wanted to show him every cut on her body.

But she didn't. She just stiffened and looked away.

"No, Scully. You aren't going to shut me out," he said, tugging on her hand to capture her attention again.

She looked at him again and saw how hard it was for him to look her in the eye. That tore her heart out. All she wanted to do at that moment was make the pain go away the only way she knew how.

"I know we don't…we don't really talk about things like this. Our feelings," he paused to search her face.

She nodded her agreement, suddenly feeling incredibly ridiculous and childish.

He continued, "I know I haven't been a good friend to you lately."

Her eyes snapped up to his, bewildered at how in depth he really was going to go with this talk. They just don't talk like this and she wasn't sure what to think.

"I owe you more than that," he stated.

"Mulder, you don't have to owe me anything. You shouldn't feel you owe me anything," she retorted trying once again to pull her hand from his but he held a painfully tight grip.

"I do. I owe you my trust," he told her.

"You truss-ed in her over what I had to say," she slurred angrily.

"It had nothing to do with trust, Scully. It had only to do with me not listening to you. It's hard to listen to something like that about someone who you…." He stopped not sure how to explain it.

"Who you loved?" she asked, her voice cracking.

He breathed out heavily and paused before saying, "Something like that."

"So she means more to you than me?" she asked, letting the alcohol talk for a moment.

His face mirrored her own when they both realized they just crossed some very high borders.

"It's…different," he started.

Her heart was pounding and the pain she felt was unbearable. She didn't want to be touching him anymore. She didn't want to look at him.

"I'm going to be sick," she muttered.

He let go of her hand, startled. She stood up and ran to the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

She heaved a few times, emptying the small amount of dinner she had eaten. Mulder knocked on the door and she told him to go away. He didn't listen of course.

"Scully, you ok?"

"I'm fine Mulder. We'll talk more tomorrow. I just want to go to bed," she called, shaking uncontrollably on the floor. The cold tile felt good on her burning skin.

He was silent but eventually left after a few more "are you sure you are ok's". She undressed and slid into the bathtub, not bothering to turn on the water. She just lay against the cold surface and cried. She couldn't stop crying. Then she started screaming. Then she kicked her feet against the end of the tub, willing herself to scream and kick the pain out of her. To do anything but cut again. She needed to stop.

It still hurt. It still hurt so badly. She couldn't get rid of it. She needed it to stop.

She grabbed for her razor and broke off the blade portion. With a swift slash, she sliced her arm open three or four different times above the three that were already on that arm.

She moaned in pain and let the razor drop, landing with a loud clipping sound that seemed to echo in the bathroom. She held her hand over the cuts, watching the blood seep through her fingers.

She must have cut too deep.

The tub was littered with blood spots and when she got up to get a cloth, the blood smeared all over.

She sat on the floor with the cloth pressed on her arm, her back propped on the tub. She felt so dizzy. She threw up a few more times before stumbling into her bedroom and falling into a deep sleep.

XXXXXXX

The morning was hell. Her arm ached, her head throbbed, her stomach muscles sore from the heaving.

She examined her arm. She didn't need stitches, they were just ugly cuts. She felt disgusted by herself when she saw how damaged her arms were. She counted the cuts. Seven on the left arm, three on the other. Ten. She had cut herself ten times.

She tore her eyes away from them and busied herself with getting ready for work. She was up way earlier than she needed to be. She may even have time to run out and get some real coffee and the time to enjoy it.

When she was dressed she noticed Mulder had left his coat on her couch. She picked it up and his badge fell out. She sighed, knowing she would have to get it to him before work.

Scully gathered her things and drove to his house ignoring the comforting scenery along the way.

Once she arrived, she walked slowly to his door, thinking about how pathetic she must have seemed to him last night.

She hesitated before knocking but allowed her hand to raise and knock sharply on the door. She listened for him and heard his heavy footsteps and the creak of floorboards as he leaned to peer out the peephole.

The sound of the lock and the squeak of the door hinges, and she was face to face with him once again.

"Scully?" he asked, groggily.

She lifted his coat and said, "You left this. Your badge was in it."

He took it from her and said, "Thanks, you ah, you want to come in?"

She nodded and followed him inside. She sat on the couch and watched him pull on a shirt and fix a cup of coffee for himself and her. She took it and offered a small smile.

He sat beside her on the couch and they drank their coffee in silence. Finally he set his cup on the coffee table and stood.

"I'm going to hop in the shower. If you want breakfast I think there's still some doughnuts," he told her.

"Thanks," she said softly, still sipping at her coffee.

She listened to him showering. She could make out small sounds here and there like the snapping of a shampoo bottle and the thump of his arm hitting the side of the shower.

Her arm was hurting again. She tried to think of anything else to get her mind off of the pain. She would have to put some medication on it tonight.

When the water stopped she decided to go grab a doughnut. She shed her jacket and walked into the kitchen. She picked out a glazed doughnut and returned to the living room.

She ate the whole thing and was finishing off the last bite as Mulder walked in, dressed for work.

She was feeling better and a little silly about last night when she noticed he was staring at her. She followed his eyes to her arm and noticed that one of the cuts must have opened and blood dotted her sleeve. Her heart practically stopped and she could feel her face grow hot.

She looked up to see his eyes narrowed thoughtfully. He didn't look at her face. Not once.

"We should be going," he finally said.

She soundlessly followed him out of the apartment. Luckily he drove her to work that day. Her arm hurt too much to even lift it.


	5. Chapter 5

Title: The Quiet Things

Author: Aeschylus

Rating: PG13

Spoilers: Emily episodes and Fowely stuff

Summary: Diana Fowely enters their lives. Scully faces her anguish of Emily's death and turns to other means of dealing with her pain.

Disclaimer: Nothing X Files is mine.

Feedback: email me at Notes: If you have seen the movie Thirteen a certain scene may be similar to a scene in my story. I wrote this before I saw the movie.

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The whole day Scully worried about what Mulder assumed the blood was from. She didn't know if she was more worried that he'd confront her or if she was more worried that he wouldn't.

She forced herself to eat a large lunch in hopes that it would defer his concern for her. The only good that did her was give her an awful stomach ache. He didn't even look at her the whole day. She could tell he was in deep thought and she was positive it was because of her.

When it was time to go they walked in silence to the car and she tried to keep even, steady breaths. He unlocked her door first and then walked around to his.

She sat down and clicked on her seatbelt, watching him take his seat. He toyed with the keys for a moment, chewing on the inside of his cheek. She knew it was coming soon.

He surprised her though, he put the keys into the ignition and they were off. He drove towards his apartment and it started to rain. The droplets pelted hard against the window and she watched the windshield wipers sweep them away.

When they arrived he turned to her to say, "Will you come up for a little while?"

"Yeah," she agreed, her voice strained.

They walked side by side to his apartment and when he lifted his key to unlock the door, they both noticed it was slightly ajar. They exchanged looks and reached for their guns. Mulder entered first and before Scully could see who it was Mulder lowered his gun and put it back in his holster.

He walked in a little further and she peered around him. Diana Fowely sat on the couch, flipping through a magazine.

"Diana," Mulder greeted her, moving to the side to show that Scully was with him.

"Hey, Hello Agent Scully," she said, smiling a thin smile at her.

"Agent Fowely," Scully managed to grunt.

"The light bulb blew out in here, that's why I'm sitting in the dark," she explained, standing up and placing the magazine on the coffee table.

"I'll get another," Mulder said, motioning for Scully to follow him. Good move because she was ready to bolt.

He reached into a cabinet and pulled out a box of bulbs. He lifted one and shook it close to his ear. He held his arm out to hand it to Scully and said, "Here, take this to her to see if it works."

She reached out and made the mistake of letting her shirt rise, revealing several cuts.

Glass shattered and she realized Mulder had dropped the light bulb. She stopped breathing and looked up into his eyes. His face had gone slack and his skin was pale white.

"Is everything ok in there?" asked Fowely.

"Fine, I'll call you later," Mulder managed to call out.

"Ok…" she said, sneaking a peek into the kitchen as she left.

When she shut the door, Mulder turned his attention back to Scully's arm, which was still frozen in an outstretched position.

"What's this?" he whispered.

She let her arm fall and said nothing. He grabbed for her arm and she screamed, not meaning to.

She felt him shaking against her as they struggled. Finally he had both her arms tightly in his grasp. She gasped in pain as his grip tightened on her wrists. Dropping one of her arms, he pushed her sleeve up.

He made a sound like a breathy "Oh.." and he backed into the counters, hand on mouth.

He breathed heavily, shaking at the sight of her arm. He closed his eyes for a moment and when he opened them he saw that she had covered her arm back up with her sleeve.

He reached for the other arm and she tore away from him. He reached for it again and managed to grab her midway up the lower portion of her arm. This time she screamed in pain.

"Please," she begged, tears starting to stream down her face.

His breathing became quicker and harder and his eyes nervously darted between her face and her arm. He finally let go and pushed up the sleeve. It was the arm with seven cuts and he almost passed out at the sight.

He dropped her arm and a tear trailed down his own face. He backed away from her, their eyes connected. He kept shaking his head as if he thought it were all a bad dream. She wished it were. She didn't know what to say or do. She couldn't stop the tears from falling.

"Scully…" he finally choked out, still shaking his head.

This made her cry harder and she sank to the floor. He walked over to her and kneeled in front of her, his hands grasping her shoulders. He then sat next to her and pulled her closer with both arms wrapped around her.

He reached for her arm again and she sobbed a protest, trying to pull away from him. He rested his chin on her shoulder and she could feel his hot, unsteady breath in her ear.

"Shh…Shhhh" he whispered in her ear as he lifted the sleeve of the worst arm.

She felt him stiffen when he saw the cuts.

"No, please," she sobbed, turning her head away from his.

He raised her arm and brought his lips to the first cut. It was a small slit neatly between two veins on her wrist.

She gritted her teeth and told him no over and over as he placed soft kisses on each individual cut up her arm.

She kicked her legs and tried the whole time to pull her arm away from him. Once he was done he pushed the sleeve back down and put his mouth by her ear again. Her body shook with silent cries and grew too weak to resist anymore.

"Don't ever do this again. Ever." He whispered.

She let out a bitter chuckle and shook her head. He moved to the front of her again and took her chin in his hand and held her face tightly there. She was forced to meet his eyes. The same eyes she had looked into too many times to count. He looked into her eyes hard, jaw clenched.

"Ever," he said again.

She tried to move her face out of his grip, but he was relentless. His fingers caught her tears and they trickled down his arm, leaving hot trails on his cool skin.

"Stop resisting. You knew this was coming," he told her.

"I'm fine," she said, her voice shaking.

He let out a snort, anger flashing in his eyes. "You are not fine Scully. You aren't."

He lifted up her sleeve again with his other hand and then forced her to tilt her face down slightly to see her arm.

"You aren't fine," he said again.

She stared at her arm and the realization of what she had been doing finally hit her and she just broke down. She couldn't comprehend anything as she sobbed uncontrollably. Mulder scooped her up in his arms and carried her to his bed.

He placed her gently under the covers on her side and kneeled beside the bed, clasping her hands in his own. He kissed each finger and she cried harder with each brush of his lips.

"Scully…I'm sorry I don't tell you what goes on in my head. I'm sorry we don't talk. I'm sorry I didn't see that it was this bad. I'm sorry…"

He paused and watched her calm down a little at the sound of his voice. He let go of her hands and reached behind him to grab a box of tissues. He handed her one that she grasped in her hand and he pulled out another one to dab at her wet cheeks and runny nose.

He rested his elbows on the bed and continued, "You are the most intelligent woman I have ever met. You are the best friend that anyone could ask for. I'm sorry I never told you that enough. I'm sorry I have taken you for granted. I have. I'm not stupid. An asshole maybe, but not stupid. I should have listened to you, given you respect and the trust that you deserve and have always given me."

She couldn't look him in the eyes anymore so she watched his lips form each word.

"But Scully, don't you ever think that you can't come to me. Don't ever think that you have to…-to hurt yourself. I am always here. Always."

She nodded and said, "I know that… Mulder. I don't know how it got like this. I didn't mean…I don't know why. I…"

He nodded and murmured in a low voice, "It only takes one night of intense emotional pain and one time channeling your pain through something else to become addicted. You know that."

She nodded and whispered, "I knew better."

The rest went unsaid. They were good at that, not talking. This event proved that some things shouldn't be left unsaid while some can and should.

They talked through their actions. When he crawled into bed next to her and held her for the rest of the night, it said 'I care about you'. When he didn't answer his phone and it was her, it said 'you over her, always'. When he used his fingers to untangle her hair and pull back the wet strands that stuck to her face, it said 'I love you'.

Her soft sigh and small strokes of her thumb on his hand replied, 'I love you too'.


End file.
